A looking glass seems such a simple thing -
a boomerang of sorts
(here's looking at me, kiddo).

So many me's (or you's) to view -
bucked out in natal garb
or gussied up for the corporate ball.
Better fix my Medusa hair,
Should I opt for the purple shirt?
Just who will I seem to be to you today?

Take a breath - a really deep one
meet those soul panes
gazing back from the other side
emissaries from an inverted universe -
romancing the past -
stalked by tomorrow's "maybes".

Who will I chance to serve or sway or fool
between now and the evening star?
Will one of them be you or me?

A looking glass seems such a simple thing.
So many me's (or you's) to view,
Just who should I seem to be to me today?